ANIL THAKRANEY Keeps a date with Zeenat Aman and finds, to his relief, the legendary sex appeal and sensuality quite intact

[Location courtesy: Lemon Grass Café, Turner Road, Bandra. Clothes courtesy: jeans, at Marks and Spencer; white shirt, at Mango; sneakers by Sketchers; heirloom gold and precious stone jewellery, Zeenat Aman’s own]

To my mind, Aman, for her entire career of 17 years, had to bear, what I believe to be, the ‘Cross of Khajuraho’. Few admire the artistry and the craftsmanship…it’s always the eroticism that grabs the imagination. But while she does, to an extent, regret that, the actor didn’t mind it too much. Because the titillating bit helped form long queues of excited film producers at her doorstep. "The slot helped me laugh all the way to the bank…I made it work for me. But," she quickly adds, "after a while, it can be frustrating to be appreciated only for one’s sexuality. I could never come to terms with the image that had been created."

Perhaps the foray into theatre, 15 years later, as her re-entry point into showbiz, emanates from a desire to prove she can do some acting. And to send out a clear signal to prospective film-makers that, for her second innings in cinema, Zeenat Aman seeks fleshy roles, not show of flesh. The play she is currently doing, Chupke Chupke, is a Hindi adaptation of the original Gujarati play, Lady Lalkuwar. It involves a mistress who forces her man to marry her under coercion.

Aman, whose first name means beauty, in Urdu, continues to look as attractive after all these years of being away from the strobe lights, raising two kids, as a single mum. Heads turn abruptly as I escort her to the coffee shop of the Taj Land’s End Hotel in Bandra, Mumbai. The same great bod, the familiar sensuous voice, sex appeal intact…if there’s one thing that’s changed, it’s the hurt she carries (a part of it visible to the naked eye) from two bad, violent marriages. The first one involved actor Sanjay Khan, a period she considers one of the biggest mistakes of her life. Pain leaps out from scarred eyes. "We fell in love on location in Jaisalmer. I was very vulnerable at the time. A few weeks of madness, that’s all it was. Getting married to a married man was never going to work. I was too young, naive and silly to know what was right for me."

[Location courtesy: Lemon Grass Café, Turner Road, Bandra. Clothes courtesy: Printed kurti, by BIBA; jeans, at Marks and Spencer; watch, by Christian Dior; heirloom gold and precious stone jewellery, Zeenat Aman’s own]

Sadly, however, her trials did not end there. Aman got into ugly skirmishes with her in-laws over the custody of her two sons; things got so bad, Aman had to stage a public outcry. "My husband’s family used my son to hurt me. I called a press conference because I couldn’t deal with it. My life was being threatened. And the moment I made it public, it stopped."

The Qurbani belle also found herself seriously broke, much of the money had been blown on her husband, Mazhar. What saved her from certain ruin, were investments in real estate in the city of Mumbai.

Two ugly relationships have made the star lose faith in the concept of marriage. "I will never marry again. One good reason to get married is to have children…and I already have them." The actor’s parents (Muslim father, Hindu mother) separated early, and she was brought up by her mother. "Marrying a Muslim man may have been my need to fill the void of losing my father at an early age," she readily admits. She also blames the deprivation of a father figure for her questionable choices. "I went into a lot of wrong relationships because I never had a father. I gave too much of myself into the marriage because I never had a barometer to compare it with."

Sensing heaviness in the air, I switch to discussing her favourite Hindi movies from the current lot. And, thank god, I’m not carrying a gun that evening, else would have been tempted to pull the trigger. Aman audaciously states she hates watching Hindi movies. The leading lady of 80 Bollywood blockbusters considers them a waste of time. "I don’t watch Hindi movies, and only do so if my kids insist. Three hours in a day is too long to take out and see movies."

It’s time to end my little date with ‘Babusha’ (her popular nickname). As we prepare to say our goodbyes, a final question: how would she like to be remembered? After a careful thought: "As a passionate, intense, vibrant person, who gave a 100 per cent to whatever she did." Er, isn’t that a bit too, how shall I put it, ambitious? She counters by asking how I think she’ll be remembered. "Hot!" I immediately suggest. "I don’t mind that, either," Aman tantalisingly whispers into my ear, flashing her trademark 24-carat smile. I might mail out the clotted blood letter, after all.